


Loving Someone Else

by katbastard



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Accidents, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Fools in Love, Gay Messes, Happy Ending, Heartbreak, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Pining, True Love, but the uswnt just DESERVES equal pay, depression drinking, emma sonnett is the hero we all need AND deserve, girls just gotta have funding, i love the frat daddies, mebbe a little bit of bacon, oblivious emily, so'hara is endgame irl and itf (in this fic), that last tag has nothing to do with this fic, torn kelley, wingwoman alex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-07-28 09:01:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20061439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katbastard/pseuds/katbastard
Summary: “I honestly thought that this tournament would bring them together. That this would be the turning point where they finally admitted to themselves and each other what we’ve known all along: So’Hara is endgame.Instead, Kelley is kissing another woman on live TV and Emily is relying on humor and copious amounts of alcohol to make it through each day.”





	1. part one

**Author's Note:**

> "Love is pain" -Viola, 'She's The Man'

July 28th, 2019, 7:42 PM

Emily POV:   
I don’t know why I’m so upset. 

Okay, scratch that…like…I know. But knowing the reason behind something doesn’t matter when that reason is so stupid. Emma keeps saying that my feelings are real and valid, even if I don’t think the reasoning behind them is. And those words actually helped, for a while, anyway. I wiped away my tears and snot (Emma made sure I looked presentable afterwards; I still feel bad for breaking down in front of her at the victory party. Mom and Dad thought I was crying happy tears, but my wombmate knew immediately it was more. She pulled me away under the guise of showing me a video of her dog, Harper, running around in my jersey, and then held me for 20 minutes in the bathroom hallway. Thank god none of my teammates [a few so more than the others] didn’t stumble across us. I don’t know if I could’ve convinced anyone I was fine in that moment, not like I have been doing in the three weeks since that night) and rejoined the festivities.

I don’t know if many people are aware of this or not, but...after you win a World Cup, you get kinda drunk. Ashlyn was kind enough to record more of the following 48 hours than necessary to satisfy any USWNT fan, so this whole alcohol-filled ordeal was immortalized on video. 

We all drank a lot that night. And the next morning. And the following night, morning and afternoon. And again getting ready for the Espys. And then we ‘Cheers’d one last time as a final celebration and sendoff, given we were leaving for our club teams or mini vacations the next morning. And then everyone else all stopped drinking excessively and returned to their in-season, Dawn-approved diets. 

I didn’t stop though. 

Mom’s always said, “Alcoholism doesn’t run in this family; it gallops,” and I didn’t fully comprehend the truth behind that statement until I was back in Portland, sitting in my empty apartment and feeling so numb and broken inside anything would be an improvement. Until I was having panic attack after panic attack and crying myself to sleep and wishing there was something, anything, I could do to forget about my life. And then I located the solutions, and their names were Jose Cuervo, and Jack Daniels, and Captain Morgan, and Esteban Julió Ricardo Montoya de la Rosa Ramírez (wait scratch that last one, that’s actually the bellhop from The Suite Life of Zach & Cody. My bad, sorry. I often get fictional hotel employees and hard liquor companies mixed up). 

Alcohol tastes quite good, plus, as a bonus, it does a pretty good job at numbing your pain, too.

And I sure had a lot of pain. It just…it hurt so much, so stupidly much, to watch Kelley kiss that other girl on live television. 

I know, I know, I said before I wasn’t going to admit the reason behind my feelings to anyone just yet. But surprise, surprise, chugging three hard ciders (as I’ve just done, whoopsie ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ ) and a fizzy gin concoction in under twenty minutes has the tendency to loosen your tongue a bit. 

I just...I just love her. Y’know? I just love Kelley O’Hara so much. 

And Kelley O’Hara loves someone else. 

________________________  
September 12th, 2019, 3:10 PM

So Lindsey is officially worried about me. And because she’s worried, I’ve got to try even harder to convince her everything is fine and dandy, which means...going an entire week without alcohol. 

(“That’s bullshit, Em, you’re not fine! No one who’s fine has this many receipts for cases of fancy beer! Every night you buy more! If you really wanna prove that you’re not using alcohol as an unhealthy coping mechanism, than you go one week without. Either that, or you admit that you need help. So, which is it gonna be, hmm, Sonny?”) 

I chose the latter. Because I was fine, I will be fine. I just need to, like, accept that I’m gonna die alone, that no one will ever love me. As soon as I do that, I won’t have to rely on anything to numb my pain. Because I’m not an alcoholic. I’m not. And I can totally go a week without booze, just to rub in Lindsey’s face how wrong she is. 

Seven days without drinking. That’s nothing. Easy as pie. Easy as…I don’t know what.

Harder than the lemonade I downed last night (that shit was weak, I’m buying brand-name Mike’s from now on…I mean, from next week on). Harder than the decision to spend hours designing and painting a Drake-themed sign for my front door (aka soooo easy, I live on the 8th level of my apartment building, ofc I’m going to create a banner that says, “If You’re Reading This, It’s Floor Eight.” How could I not? It’s child’s play). 

Easier than, say, growing up Catholic and gay in Georgia (which, did I ever tell you guys how much I, like, so totally LOVED that?!?! It was, like, so much fun. Absolutely no bigotry or self-hatred whatsoever. 10/10 would recommend). Easier than…casually coming out on live television by smooching your longterm girlfriend, who is leaning down from the stands at the Women’s World Cup final, right after you won said event.

God, that image even shows up in my inner monologues now. 

Kelley kissing someone else.

Kelley loving someone else. 

________________________  
September 23rd, 2019, 3:08 PM

Okay, so maybe Lindsey wasn’t completely wrong. 

I made it three days before I broke down. Three days before my best friend found me fetal on our kitchen floor, and had to hold me all night to stop my body’s shaking. 

I was right about not being an alcoholic, by the way. I might have gotten to that point in another month or so, but I wasn’t there yet. Those body shakes I mentioned were from weeping, not withdrawal. 

Lindsey called Coach and told him neither of us would be at practice today, but she still made me go for a run with her all the same. She also scheduled me an appointment with a therapist later that week, and it wasn’t a waste of time like I thought it would be. I didn’t tell Dr. Bela about being in love with Kelley, but of course she figured it out her own. I’ve been to two sessions so far, and even though I don’t like how easily she can read me, Dr. Bela is helping a lot. The first visit, she told virtually me the same thing Emma did, in that bathroom hallway, two months ago. She said that my emotions are valid, lack of a “real” reason doesn’t matter. No matter how I feel about the cause of those feelings, it doesn’t make them any less valid. 

“Look, the tea is this,” she said at the end of the second session, “You are a complex human being. You’re composed of many parts. Some of those parts aren’t the right ones to lean on right now. The part of you that wants to drink away your problems, the part of you that is terrified of being a burden to others so you keep everything all bottled up, the part of you that would rather hurt yourself over and over in favor of causing any pain to someone else, the part of you that’s still not being honest with your loved ones about your emotional state, those are all pieces of Emily. But they’re not the components of yourself you need to fall back on right now. You are a strong person. You work your ass off. You care so much about others and they care so much about you. And you have perhaps the best outlet in your life to deal with this, you just have to realize it. You’re going to be happy again, Ms. Sonnett. Mark my words.”

“...but, Dr. Bela, what outlet? What am I overlooking here? What’s this way I can make everything better?”

“Well,” she paused, as if deciding how easy to make it for me, “What’s the one thing that’s always brought you joy?”

Fuck if I know.

________________________  
September 26th, 2019, 10:08 AM

I know. I figured it out last night. Damn, Dr. Bela is one sneaky shrink. 

It’s soccer. That’s what’s always brought me joy. 

________________________  
January 3rd, 2020, 11:23 AM

Camp has already gotten off to a rough start. Not in terms of conditioning, I’m actually in the best shape of my entire life right now. And still riding the post-2019-NWSL-Champion high. And not friend-wise either, our squad is closer than we’ve ever been. Emotionally, I’m doing a lot better as well, I’ve had 12 sessions with Dr. Bela now and it’s amazing how good she is at her job. I’ve dealt with stuff I didn’t even know was still bothering me. Like the internalized self-hatred that comes with growing up gay in a southern religious area. Or how I measure my self-worth with external motivators, like social media. We’ve talked a lot about Kelley, too, during our time together. And about what the appropriate amount of time is for me to keep waiting for her (I’d wait forever, not that I’d tell my shrink that. I know Kel’s it for me. I know I’ll be in love with her for the rest of my life…even if I have to do it from afar). 

So yeah, I was doing really well, until the first night of camp (yesterday), when I overheard Alex Morgan talking about me.

“I honestly thought that the World Cup tournament would bring them together. That it would be the turning point where they finally admitted to themselves and each other what we’ve all known: So’Hara is endgame.” 

She pauses.

“Instead, Kelley is kissing another woman on live TV and Emily is relying on humor and copious amounts of alcohol to make it through each day.”

I don’t let myself listen to the other person’s response. No, I cope with these emotions the best way I know how. 

Booze. 

Kidding, kidding, sorry. I actually went for a run. 

Alex’s words are still bouncing around in my head after half an hour, so I decide five miles is a good halfway rest point (gotta pace myself, after all), and open my Messages. 

To: Wombie [Emma]

Any chance we can FaceTime for a few? Love you.

To: Wittle Seester [Emily]

Give me a minute to feed Harps and I’m all yours. 

Always the punctual one (she still brags about getting delivered on our due date; thanks to the existence of midnight, I was technically born a day late), my twin calls 60 seconds later. 

“Hey Em!” Her face takes up the whole screen but I can still hear the telltale sound of kibble crunching in the background.

“Hey Em!” (Just a little joke between the two of us. When your parents name their twin daughters Emma and Emily, you’re gonna riff on that for awhile.)

“So, what’s up? How are you? How’s camp going?”

“I’m good, and camp’s good, just was kinda hoping to talk thru something that just happened if that’s okay with you?”

“Of course, I’m always here for you.”

“So, uh...you might have noticed from my appearance that I was just working out-“

“-which means you were also working something out in your head at the same time, yes?”

“Yeah. Kinda. Or trying to, at least.” 

“Talk to me.” 

“Uh, okay, well, right before I left the hotel to go running, I overheard Alex Morgan talking about me and Kelley.”

“What?!?” Whatever Emma was expecting me to say, that certainly wasn’t it. “What did she say? If it was anything mean, so help me god, I will kick her-“

“Emma!” I interrupt her with a laugh, “It’s nothing bad about me, I promise! Now retract the claws, Wolverine, and I’ll tell you what I heard.”

I repeat to her (with as near accuracy as I can manage) what the striker said, Emma interjecting once in the middle to add, “awww, she said you’re endgame!!!”

“What the hell do I do do, sis??? Do I ignore it? Do I talk to Alex about it? Do I talk to Kelley about it? I’m just so confused.”

“Confused about Kelley? Or about Alex’s words?”

“I mean, both. I have so many questions swirling around in my head right now and can’t come up with an answer to any of them.”

“Okay, well, give me one. We can try and work it through together.”

I send Emma a grateful smile before continuing. My sister really has my back. “Well, I don’t know what Alex meant by us both admitting our feelings during the World Cup. Obviously she could tell how I felt, how I still feel, but what does she know about where Kelley’s head is at? The way she phrased it certainly didn’t give me the impression Kel had told her anything, but she’s her best friend, so maybe she had picked up on something before? I’m just so confused, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Okay, Em...I’m gonna tell you something right now, and you need to promise to let me finish before you interrupt. Okay?”

“Lay it on me.”

“Kelley loves you too.”

“WHAT?!?!?!?”

“No interrupting, you promised! Let me finish...okay, so anyone who knows either of you has been able to see this for two years now. It’s exactly as Alex put it: you two are so in love with each other, just hadn’t admitted it to yourselves yet. Or you hadn’t, I don’t know where Kelley’s head is at regarding you both, but I know heart eyes when I see them. And for two years, y’all’s were for each other.” Emma pauses and I hear her filling Harper’s tin water bowl. She places it down before her face takes up my phone’s screen again. “But Em, this is important: from the footage at the World Cup final, Kelley looked at two people like they were the sun in the sky. One was you. And the other, well, was the girl she kissed.”

I wipe away the tears that have started their slow descent down my cheeks. 

Emma continues, “I know none of this is fair, and I know how much you love her, but I also know loving someone means you want them to be happy. And if this other girl makes her happy right now, I think you have to let her.”

I’m full-on sobbing into my phone at this point. 

“Em, Em, shit no, I didn’t mean to make you cry, take some deep breaths for me, please, okay? Just breathe for me. In, out. Just like that. I’ve got you, okay? Deep breath again, in and out. You’re safe, Em, I’ve got you, you just need to breathe.”

I calm down enough until I can nod for her to continue speaking.

“You should talk about what you heard with Alex, if you want answers. But to talk to Kelley about this now could seriously fuck up not just you and your sobriety, but also the team dynamics as a whole. It’s not fair, and I’m sorry, but you need to do what’s best for yourself. And that is to get answers from Alex directly and put yourself in the healthiest emotional situation. Right now, and I think Dr. Bela would agree given what you’ve told me about her, you need to focus on Emily. I’m not saying give up, I’m not saying you should stop waiting for her, I’m saying this needs to play out without you potentially getting your heart trampled yet again.”

She’s silent for a few moments, and I take that as a sign she’s finished speaking. “You’re right,” I exhale, the tears now dried and my voice no longer hoarse, “And I won’t confront Kelley about this, I know she’s happy, I mean, after everything she went through in her past relationships, with Hope and Ann, the fact she felt comfortable enough to…to, uh, to kiss Meg at the final, knowing all those cameras were around, that speaks for itself on how serious she is in the relationship. It’s just…god, it’s just…you think I don’t want her to be happy? All I want is for her to be happy. But I want to be happy, too, and I can’t imagine that happening without Kelley.”

“You’re gonna be happy again, Em. I promise. Four months ago, you didn’t think you’d ever feel okay again, hell, four months ago you were drinking yourself into a stupor and having panic attacks every day. You’ve come really far, healing-wise, and you’ll continue to get even better with your healthy coping mechanisms. As Dr. Bela says: ‘Take a deep breath, call a friend, and play footy like the badass you are.’”

“I love you, Em.”

“I love you too, Em.”

“I’m gonna do what you paraphrased Dr. Bela would want me to do, and go get ready for our first training session. I’ll talk to Alex tomorrow about what I overheard, but tonight I’m just gonna surround myself with my besties and be a badass on that footy field. Night, sis. And thank you again, for talking through this with me.”

“Anytime, I’m always here for you. Night, Emily.”

She hangs up and I sit back on the bench for a minute, and just let the sun hit my face, before stretching out (don’t want to get injured on top of this) and starting the jog back to the hotel. 

________________________  
January 4th, 2020, 8:08 AM

I’m standing in line for oatmeal when I see her for the first time in two months. I avoided her as best I could during the Victory Tour and last three camps, and enlisted my friends in keeping me as busy as possible in my downtime. I’ve really tried to be subtle about it, but there’s only so much you can do when you go from being around someone 24/7 to barely interacting. Kelley’s definitely picked up something by now. I can tell by the way I catch her eye, I can see the usual joyous energy behind them, but there’s a flash of hurt before she glances back down at the fruit. 

I still love Kelley O’Hara. 

________________________  
1:16 PM

There are few ways to genuinely piss Alex Morgan off. The first is getting in the way of her and coffee. The second, trash talking her favorite futbol team. Another, hurting someone she cares about. 

But if you were to list them, at the top, #1 with a bullet, would be waking her up from a post-training nap. 

“What.” Her voice is hoarse, snippy, and cold all at the same time, her face already set in a scowl as she yanks the door open. 

“I heard you talking about me yesterday.”

Her expression only softens slightly, but her grip on the doorframe slips, and, after a brief pause, she steps aside. I take the invitation and walk into the room, taking the time to be thankful Allie (Alex’s roommate this camp) isn’t a huge fan of daytime sleeping. 

“How much did you hear?” I turn and see Alex perched on the desk chair, more awake than she was a minute ago. 

I take a deep breath before answering. “Only a little, but it was enough to make me question some stuff.”

“Yeah.” Alex, too, pauses, then lets out a puff of air. “Well? What did you want to ask me?”

“Is Kelley happy?” 

Alex is shocked at this sudden question, and I don’t blame her; it wasn't what I had planned to ask her first by a long shot, but my mouth had other plans. “Is she…you mean, like, with…with Meg? Or, just, like, happy in general?”

“She’s always happy in general,” I laugh, “It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with her in the first place.”

If Alex was surprised a moment ago, it’s nothing compared to now. 

“You, you…admitted it! Holy shit, Son- when? It’s been like a million years since I starting waiting for you two to - oh shit! You…you mean it, right? You know what we’ve known all along?!?” 

I smile sheepishly at the older girl and just shrug. “Yeah, Al. It took me losing her to finally realize it, but I’ve been in love with her since practically my very first call-up.”

“Wow. I, uh, I wasn’t expecting that. Wait, what exactly did you hear me say yesterday?”

“That you thought we’d finally tell each other about our feelings in France, that Kel and I are endgame in your eyes, and that I was not as good at covering up my post-WWC drinking problem as I had led myself to believe.”

“Actually, I didn’t know about the whole near-alcoholic thing until yesterday. If I had known while it was going on, I’d have brought it up then.”

“Oh…how did you — who told you yesterday?”

“You did.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you did. You accidentally butt-dialed me when you were talking to Lindsey at the airport, don’t worry, I hung up as soon as I realized, but I had already heard her telling you how proud she was of you for getting help and her plan for your six-month-soberversary in March.”

“Oh.”

“For the record, though, Sonny…I’m sorry for not checking up on you sooner. I could tell you were hurting despite that wall you put up, I just had no clue how much. And I was distracted helping Ke— helping with other stuff. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”

“It’s okay, Alex, don’t put any of that on yourself. I wasn’t alone. Emma took care of me when I had a breakdown the night of the final, and has called to talk nearly every day since. Lindsey quite literally picked me up off the floor and made me face my problems. Mal, Rose, Sammy, and Cait have been amazing since I started opening up to them, and you wouldn’t expect it by looking at her, but Raso has some of the dankest memes you will ever see. And I’ve been seeing a psychologist for the past four months, between her and the occasional AA meeting, I’ve dealt with a lot of the shit holding me back.”

“Y’know, you’re a total badass, Emily Sonnett.”

“My shrink told me the same thing.”

“Well, now I know the perfect career for me once I retire.” Alex smiles at me.

I send a grin right back. “A therapist who curses but in a complimentary way?”

She lets out a barking laugh at that. 

“Exactly. See, you get me, Sonny.”

“Maybe it should be me doing the shrink stuff, then.”

“Don’t steal my thing.”

“Your thing being the joke suggestion I made less than a minute ago?”

“…yep.”

Don’t tell her this, or anything, but…Alex Morgan is pretty great.

________________________  
January 10th, 2020, 4:59 PM

I’ve never played better soccer in my entire life. At least, that’s what Jill told me after yesterday’s session. 

And I’ve never been faster, stronger, and more focused on fitness either. That praise came from Dawn after I made it to the final two in the Beep Test (you know who came in first).

And I’ve never smiled so much, or opened up to such a degree in the past without lots of prompting, according to Dr. Bela via our video therapy session.

And now, according to Mal, I’ve never been so attractive before, either. 

(“I mean, you might turn me yet,” she said this morning over breakfast. My eyes went even wider when Sam added, “Even Kristie asked me if I was sure about the whole hetero-marriage thing when I posted that pic of the two of us a couple days ago.”)

Yeah, my life is going pretty great. 

And yet…I’m still not happy. 

Because I’m still so in love with Kelley O’Hara.

________________________  
January 20th, 2020, 3:00 PM

It comes as no surprise to the nation when Barack Obama cheers the loudest and smiles the widest after Michelle is officially sworn in as the 46th President of the United States.

And it comes as no surprise to my family, friends, and teammates when I start all three friendlies. 

When Carli retired in the fall, Crystal Dunn took her spot in the offense, and Jill decided to try the defenders out in different positions. Six months of experimenting has led to a similar, but even more solid, back line. Now I play center back alongside Becky, with Abby and Kelley on the flanks. It feels so natural to be back in the position I’ve played at for most of my life, and the confidence has just helped my game more. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’ve had nearly every opposing forward laid out (legally, of course) when they try and get past me. 

It was still a surprise to me what happened when I started the three friendlies. 

Before each kickoff, Kelley has a tradition of looking up at God in thanks. She didn’t stop doing that the last few matches, but afterward, she has turned her head my direction, waited for me to catch her eye, and then sent me a small nod. 

How does she make me fall even deeper in love without uttering a word?!?

And how does Michelle get those arms?!?

________________________  
February 19th, 2020, 9:45 PM

I didn’t know they broke up until they had already gotten back together. 

When I finally hear about it, I cry until there’s no tears left in my ducts. 

I want to break. 

I want to scream.

I want to pull my hair out.

I want to drink.

God, do I want to drink.

If this were six months ago, I’d be taking my tenth shot by now. 

But it’s today, so I wipe my snotty nose on my sleeve (kinda gross, I know), and dial up Emma. It only takes her hearing my voice before she announces she’s coming over. I end up spending the hour it takes for her to drive into Atlanta on the phone with Lindsey. 

(How, might one ask, did she know I needed someone to talk to? You guessed it, my sister is that amazing.)

When Emma arrives, the first thing she does is pull me into a hug. My twin knows me well. 

The next thing she does is hand me a wad of Kleenex, a face wipe, and my house keys, and tell me I have two minutes to become presentable. 

Before long, I’m sitting in the passenger seat of her car and getting mauled with love by Harper (“Surprise!”). We end up driving to the nearest large park and walking the trails with my caniece (Geddit? Caniece? Cuz it’s a mixture of canine and niece? No? Geez, tough crowd) until the sun is setting and I’m all out of words to say. Then we get ice cream (cotton candy for Emma, chocolate chip cookie dough for me, and the usual fat-free vanilla for Harps) and head back to my apartment. When Emma leaves a few hours later, I sit back on my couch, prop my feet up, and thank my lucky stars yet again that my sister knows me so well. I didn’t know what I needed to do today to feel better, but she did. 

I love my sister.

And, of course, I still love Kelley O’Hara. 

________________________  
April 1st, 2020, 7:54 PM

Did you know that listening to sad songs will make you, well, sad? 

It’s true.

I’m as surprised as you are. 

(Because I’m an idiot) I spent the entire plane ride to camp listening to Thomas Rhett, Brandi Carlile, and The Fray. So (because I’m an idiot) I spent the better part of two hours on the verge of tears. Why? Well, other than the obvious reason (I’m an idiot), I am in deep denial about how much Kelley and Meg’s official instagram coming out post is killing me. I’ve been a low-key mess for three weeks now, hating myself and hating them and hating my parents for not signing me up for tennis instead of soccer two decades ago. What I hate the most (even more than the fact the girl I love isn’t mine and probably never will be) is how little I know about Kelley now. Like most heartbroken millennials (slash fellow idiots), I spent the first hour after seeing their couple post (ship name: Keg. I hate how much I love it) doing a deep dive of Kelley’s social media content over the past half year. And there’s so many things I’ve missed, so much of her life I didn’t know about because I couldn’t handle seeing it. 

We were thick as thieves starting my very first call-up, when I was just 22. A year was spent (unbeknownst to us at the time) going from best friends to pining lovesick gay messes (TM). More than two were then spent pretending to be only just best friends, pretending I didn’t feel electricity every time our hands brushed and cuddling way too close to be platonic. But those three years were the best of my life, because I spent them with her. 

I’m still so, so, so in love with Kelley O’Hara.

But I also really miss my best friend. 

Also, happy April Fools Day and stuff. This wasn’t a joke, it was actually quite serious, but…yeah. Happy 1st. 

________________________  
April 2nd, 2020, 6:08 AM

I woke up to someone knocking repeatedly on the door. 

And apparently Lindsey was “already up” and “going to open it” when I threw the pillow, but since I “wasn’t being gracious of her huge sacrifice,” I had to roll out of bed to get it. 

“Wha—oh.” 

If I had been awake for more than ten seconds, I might have thought to myself, ‘who could that be at my door at six AM?’ or ‘maybe I should put a shirt on instead of just ripping the door open wearing nothing but a sports bra and boxer briefs,’ or even a ‘hey, there’s a hairbrush, maybe…use it???’ 

But alas, none of those thoughts were forefront on my mind, I was too busy internally cursing out both Lazy Linds (which, now that I’m saying it, is sooooo much catchier than The Great Horan) and the repetitive knocker. So I wasn’t exactly prepared to be face-to-face with (a very determined) Kelley O’Hara for the first time in nine months. 

And I don’t think she was prepared for me to be partially naked and donning (what she would much later tell me looked like) sex hair. I say that because the serious look slipped off her face pretty quickly and for a solid 30 seconds, her eyes did not leave my abs (not to brag, but remember that avocado float IG picture? Well, imagine that but 21-33% better. That’s where I’m at today. Yeah, you can wipe your drool off the floor now). 

When she finally dragged her gaze up to my face, I noticed them for the first time all by myself. 

I saw the heart eyes. 

For a second, anyway, before she spun on her heel and sprinted down the hall. 

I didn’t even have time to yell out her name before the stairwell door had closed behind her. And just as I decided to run after her, near-nudity be damned, I felt someone firmly grip my forearm. 

And Alex’s timing could not have been better. 

________________________  
(6:20 AM)

In case I haven’t mentioned it before, here it goes: Alex Morgan is the actual best.

She had (she explained later) been woken up by Kelley’s knocking and got to the door’s peephole just in time to see her best friend fleeing, opened the door in time to stop my public indecency, and opened her arms in time for me to collapse into them. 

“Shirtless hugging. This is certainly one way to wake up. I still kinda prefer coffee, though.”

I giggled as she continued to support me, and was still smiling when I withdrew from her grasp and stood (a little shakily, sure) on my own. 

“How do you always manage to make the worst jokes in the best moments?”

She shrugged. “It’s a gift, I guess. One I’ll definitely need when I open my own private psychology practice.”

“I hate you,” I responded, but the unamused expression I had schooled my face into quickly broke and I couldn’t help but laugh along with her. 

“Please, Sonny, you love me and you know it. Now go put on a shirt and sweats so I can remain faithful to my husband; we’re going to get breakfast together.”

I shook my head, laughing still. “Al, you know it’s like the buttcrack of dawn, right? What’s open right now?”

“Don’t worry, young padawan. I know a place.”

________________________  
(8:45 AM)

Of all the ways I could have possibly spent my first morning of national team camp, this was the worst by a longshot. 

Our diner trip started nice, with Alex ended up sweet-talking the new PT intern into getting us the keys for a team van, and continued that way twenty minutes later, with us sitting in a large booth at some little hole-in-the-wall cafe Alex frequented back in high school. 

My questioning the size of the seating arrangements (“there’s literally a corner table right there”) and Alex’s coffee order (“why on earth do you need five cups simultaneously?!?”) was answered not 15 minutes later, when the door jangled open and in trudged a (very tired) Rose, Mal, Linsdey, and Sam. 

As soon as they had caffeine in their system, my friends quickly became animated, and Lindsey even admitted she was still buried under the covers this morning when I threw that pillow. 

“Speaking of this morning,” she began, faltering only slightly at Alex’s alarmed expression, “what the hell happened? Was there even someone at the door, cuz I certainly didn't hear any talking.”

“You don’t have to an—“ Alex began, but I cut her off with a shake of my head.

“No, it’s okay. I want to tell them.”

I recapped the encounter, omitting the heart eyes but not the eyes-locked-on-abs part, and by the time I was done a few minutes later, Lindsey looked furious, Rose and Sam shocked, and Mal perfectly giddy. 

“Holy crap, Sonny! You know what that means, right?!?” Mal started, only to be interrupted by a fuming Lindsey.

“Yeah, it means I’m gonna kill her! No one messes with my friend’s heart for this long without deserving a beatdown.”

“Wait, hold up, guys, I’m confused,” Sam interjected slowly, as if she were working out a math problem in her head as she was speaking. 

“Same!” Rose agreed. “We need the other party’s best friend’s side of this story before we decide on murdering anyone.” A pointed look at Lindsey and Mal followed, before she continued, “Alex, what’s going on with Kelley?”

She pursed her lips. “Look, I…I can’t just spill her secrets, not without her permission, I’m sorry but—“

“But nothing!” Angry Lindsey was back (though, was she ever truly gone to begin with?). “KO has a girlfriend, she can’t just toy around with Sonny’s feelings whenever she wants a thrill!”

“Hey!” Alex and I yelled out at the same time. She opened her mouth to speak, and defend her friend no doubt, but I started first. “Look, dealing with all this is one of the hardest thing I’ve ever done, it’s been such a shitty period, and part of me just wants to say, ’It’s over, I’m done.’ But I can’t. You think I don’t want to punch things or people?!?” I wheeled around to Lindsey, then fixed my glare on Mal. “Or pretend this is gonna have some magical fairytale ending where she suddenly realizes it’s been me all along?” I was standing now, having apparently kicked my chair over in frustration, and every eye was on me. “God, I wish there was just this switch, or some magic potion, or something, so finally I could be pulled out of this limbo. Just to know what’s gonna happen. Because not knowing is—it’s just pure shit, and how in the hell am I supposed to figure my life out when I don’t even know if I’ll ever have somebody to live it with me! Fuck that, no, not just somebody, I know what love is, and I know who my one is, and like Betty White said, ‘once you’ve had the best, why settle for the rest?’ Well, she’s my best. Okay? She’s it.” I pause to suck in a monster breath before visibly deflating. “The girl of my dreams is happy, though, y’know, and I want her to be happy, I just wish it was with me…I have been in love with Kelley O’Hara since the moment I saw her, and I will love her until my dying breath. I’d wait forever, I’d go through the entire year’s shitstorm all over again, just to see her smile at me again one more time. That’s what you all don’t understand. This is my life. She is my life.” 

I collapse heavily into my now upright chair (thank you, waitress, I think?) and finally drag my eyes back up to my friends. 

They’re all shocked, but none of them are looking at me. Every single person’s gaze is on something behind me, and I wheel around to see what’s got them all fixated and —

“Oh.” 

Because standing there in the open doorway behind me, staring right at me, is Kelley.

Kelley O’Hara, the girl I love. 

Kelley O’Hara, the girl that broke my heart.

Kelley O’Hara, who ran away from me this morning. 

Kelley O’Hara, who just heard me profess my undying love for her.

Kelley O’Hara, who is running away from me again, disappearing before my eyes.

Kelley O’Hara, the one who got away. The one who is getting away. The one who—what the fuck am I doing, sitting here making this fucking list?!?!?! Why are my feet not moving?!? Fuck, go, yes, go, faster, feet, faster.

I catch up with her a block away. 

She’s stopped in the middle of the intersection, apparently frozen. 

“Kelley!” 

She turns, steps towards me, and neither of us see the car until it’s too late.


	2. part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter were a 'Friends' episode, it's title would be: "The One Where Emily's Pranks Go Too Far."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I'm uploading this early in the hopes y'all will forgive me :) I was planning on editing this earlier today, maybe tweaking a few parts, and ended up writing another 3,100 words...
> 
> This is still in Emily's POV btw!

(9:32 AM)

She’s going to be okay. I let out the largest sigh of relief of all time and, without even realizing I’m doing it, close the distance between myself and the doctor to wrap her in a hug. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank—“ my words are broken up by sobs, but the physician seems to understand nonetheless. 

“Go be with her.” 

I nod into her lab coat, step back, and thank her once again. After a quick smile, she’s off again, needing to see other patients no doubt, and I’m left alone with just a steadily beeping monitor, my one true love hooked up to countless machines and displays, and my own increasing guilt. 

The girls had arrived at the accident scene mere minutes after me, but I was the only one allowed to ride in the ambulance with Kelley and the paramedics. I saw Alex mimic a phone call and had just enough time to send her a nod before we sped off shrieking. 

As soon as we arrived, Kelley was rushed off to radiology and I was escorted to an empty (private, thank god, dollars to donuts Alex had already gotten in touch with the hospital administrator and talked/threatened them into getting her friend VIP status) suite. And given the doctor just told me Kell was going to be okay, I have more to text Alex then just the room number. 

Deep breath. 

In, out.

It’s time to do what I promised.

I scroll through my contacts and press on Danger Dan’s. 

It’s the hardest phone call I’ve ever had to make. I keep myself together enough to give him the relevant information. Her parents get on the next flight to Los Angeles. 

The second hardest call comes not a minute later when Allie Long picks up her phone. 

“Yo, Sonny, what up? Where are you guys?”

I break down. 

“Allie, car, and Kelley, bad, and, hospital, Allie, need, call Meg, I don’t have, her parents know, tell Meg, god, Allie.”

And that’s when everything goes black. 

________________________  
(10:41 AM)

You know what the most effective way to scare your friends is?

(I’ll give you a hint: it’s not one of the typical type of pranks we do during camp, but it still proves to be very successful.)

Yep, you guessed it!!!: it’s to have your friends burst into the hospital room of their other friend, who’s just been hit by a car, and see you also collapsed on the floor. 

Definitely the kind of ‘BOO’ moment they’ll never forget. 

When I come to, I’m surrounded by people, my head is throbbing, and I’m so thankful for Alex Morgan. 

Because when Allie understood zero of the words I was saying to her, she called Alex. And Alex, who was somehow not a complete mess, was able to relay the news, and then leave separate messages for Meg and Jill (the latter of whom was in a meeting, and didn’t find out until after Allie had already taken care of informing everyone at breakfast around her; namely, the members of the team not already at the ER and Dawn). 

The hospital room got pretty crowded pretty quickly. So crowded, in fact, that we spilled out into the hallway and were told by multiple doctors to go to the waiting room. No one budged (though that could've partially been because we packed like sardines and thus, unable to budge), so the staff tried again, one physician barely starting a speech about fire safety violations when his gaze landed on Alex Morgan and he just — stopped. 

And I was thankful for Alex Morgan for the third time today. This time, though, it wasn't because of her friendship, or poise under pressure, or ability to make me laugh. This time, it was because she was famous. 

The entire country may know next to nothing about women’s soccer, but they’d still recognize its poster girl anywhere. 

The doctor mumbled something about a billboard or magazine and then clammed right up, turned to his colleagues, nodded, and proceeded to leave. And the guy must’ve said something to everyone else working on the floor, because after that, nurses and aides smiled more, and brought us cups of Gatorade and sleeves of graham crackers, and no one said anything else about the safety hazard that was the USWNT. 

And that’s when (I’m told, at least, I don’t remember everything going black this time), I fainted again. 

________________________  
(2:26 PM)

When I came to a second time, it was made abundantly clear how much my friends didn’t enjoy my pranks. 

Everyone was blurry, and I couldn’t hear very well out of my right ear, but I know Mal swore a lot and a lot of people were yelling at me. 

But apparently it wasn’t angry yelling, but more concerned yelling, because my head was bleeding from where it hit the floor and everyone quickly realized I was completely out of it. 

The next couple of hours are fuzzy, but I’m told that I got stitches, a CAT Scan, my own hospital suite (Alex Morgan Intimidation FTW: Part Two), and a diagnosis of severe concussion, not necessarily in that order. 

Then (against medical advice, I must add), everything went black again, because I fell asleep. 

________________________  
(April 3rd, 2020, 4:30 AM)

I wake up to wayyyy too bright lights, a churning in my stomach that’s not guilt-related (though it certainly doesn’t help), and the sight of my sister’s sleeping form in the chair next to my bed (Mal, Rose, and Sam are stacked like pancakes on a hospital cot). 

I want to tell them thank you. 

I want to apologize for worrying them so much.

And I really, really want to ask how Kelley’s doing.

Instead I throw up. A lot. So much that my head feels like it's exploding and my vision gets a lot of those weird stars. Then I throw up again, just for good measure. Then once more, when I realize I’ve just vomited all over myself and process in the sight and smell surrounding me. 

A lot of stuff seems to happen in quick succession after that. Everyone wakes up, obviously, and Mal is out the door to get a doctor within seconds, Sam is making a mess of things opening random cupboards looking for a basin, Emma is holding my hair back and trying not to throw up, and Rose is throwing up. But, like, not a lot. And it’s in the corner, super out of the way of normal foot traffic. Rose is courteous in every situation, even when it’s deciding on the most convenient space to get sick. Man, Rose is awesome. Also, man, my head really hurts. When did that happen?

The nurses descend upon the room pretty quickly (S/O to my girl Mal) and kick everyone but Emma out. My gown is changed and mouth wiped up before I even realize I’m buck naked and dripping saliva and stomach acid onto my chest.

Then, more tests are done, most of which I have no recollection of, and its hours before I can see my friends and sister again. That reunion only lasts for a few minutes, though, because OOPS! the first head scan missed a bleed in my brain. So I’ve just thanked Rose a third time for being so gentlemanly blowing chunks earlier when I’m rushed into emergency surgery. And this time, I have a great excuse for blacking out, and it’s name is [Anesthesia.]

________________________  
(April 5th, 2020, 7:50 AM)

When I come the morning after my surgery, the person standing above me isn't immediately recognizable. It takes me minute to place her, and when I do, I feel like vomiting again. 

I don’t, though. Not for lack of trying, but I just have nothing left in my stomach to throw up. Surprisingly enough, I feel my hair being pulled into a messy bun and back rubbed in soothing circles. 

And then my waves of nausea give way to a whole other feeling: clarity. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks that while I still don’t know how Kelley is doing, I have no reason to worry. Because if this girl will play nurse now to me, a near stranger, so amazingly, she will surely go above and beyond for someone she actually cares about…in this case, her girlfriend. 

I am able to get out a raspy, “Thank you,” before exhaustion overtakes my body again. 

As I close my eyes, I see Meg close the door. 

Kelley is gonna be just fine.

________________________  
(11:00 AM)

This time when I wake up, I feel so much better. The aviators someone had placed over my closed eyes help with the room brightness enormously, whatever’s in the IV bag hanging next to me is working wonders on my head pain, and my stomach has calmed down completely. 

Also this time, I’m given the all clear to try and ingest something, so I slowly sip chicken soup through a no-spill kiddie cup (which, heads up to the hospital people, I’m totally stealing. It has Batman stickers on it, okay? I’m only human). 

I’m in a better mood immediately after getting some food in my stomach (“it totally wasn’t the fall that led to this, I think I was just really hangry,” I explain to the nurses, who quickly lose their fight to not smile) and once the broth soothes my sore throat, I can’t stop joking with my teammates. 

Mal, in particular, seems pretty terrified at first, but after some banter she loosens up. By the time Jill and Dawn come to visit, I’m sitting up in my hospital bed trying to recreate the first Harry Potter movie, sound effects and movements included.

“And Voldemort is like, ‘Avaddddaaa kevadjfduihuhv,’ and there’s all this green light but then lil baby Harry’s like, ‘uh uh uh,’” I waggle my finger sassily, “and then he goes, ‘RAWWWWRRRR’ all lion-like, oh hi Jill, Dawn, and then Voldemort’s like ‘whaaaaaa?!?!? this lil…this lil baby child is defeating me? hells naw.’” My voice has now taken on a have southern twang, which delights Sam to no end, “but lil baby Harry, who’s like, he’s like this tiny,” I show them with two of my fingers, “he’s actually a micro baby, believe that or not, and Harry just smiles all cheekily as Voldemort crumbles into dust in front of him, he think he killed him, you see, but Voldy actually has these things called horcruxes, which —“

“Hey, no spoilers!” Rose pipes up, and I have to take her request into consideration. 

“Sorry, yes, okay, wee lil H.P. is all happy because, giiiiiiiirl,” This is directed at Jill for some reason unbeknownst to myself, “Big bad Voldy is dead!!! But then he gets sooooo sad, because, like, before the dark lord went ‘avaaadda kablooey’ on Harry, he did it to Harry’s parents, Jill and Dawn you missed this part, but Harry’s dad like tried to be all brave and face Voledmoer,” This mispronunciation goes totally missed by me, but not my teammates, the majority of whom have been filming the entire scene, “Except he got crazy murdered, then Harry’s mom was like, ‘nooo, not Harry, pleaseeee, not Harry!’ but Voldemort was like, ‘I don’t care about your feelings, snowflake, and them’s the facts,’” I have to raise my voice to continue because all of my teammates are howling in laughter, “And Lily totally got killed too, now you’re caught up coach, also Harry’s 11 now and not a micro baby anymore but he’s still sooooo sad, cuz his mean ole uncle and aunt and dingbat cousin are, like, mean and, like, dingbatty, but SURPRISE, Harry’s a motherfucking wizard, yoooooo!” I cross my arms in my best gangsta pose.

This, of course, is the moment the doctor comes by with his residents for morning rounds. 

The room falls deathly (hallows) quiet, until I wonder out loud, “Hey, do you know Harry Potter?” and everyone loses their shit all over again. 

I have to say goodbye to most of my visitors then (because a 'calm environment' apparently promotes 'faster healing,' or some other bullshit), but the jokes don’t end there. 

(When I’m discharged two days later, I’m told by multiple people on the nursing staff and a handful of the residents that I was their favorite patient ever.) 

It’s nearing the end of the medical questions when it occurs to me again: “Hey, Doc, can you please tell me how Kelley O’Hara is doing? She’s my teammate on the—“ 

He cuts me off, “I cannot go into detail about other patients without their consent but I can tell you Miss O'Hara was released earlier today and made plans to stay with a friend of hers in the area for several days should any problems arise. I suggest you contact her directly if you'd like to know any recent medical particulars.” 

‘That other girl's gotta be Meg,’ I think, then address my physician agin, “Can you make sure her girlfriend knows she likes to be the little spoon when she’s sick? She's prolly already aware, but if not, please tell her.”

This is clearly the strangest request he has ever gotten, but the doctor gives me a nod and a forced smile anyway before continuing his interrogation. “How have your bowel movements been since the operation? Any blood or discoloration in your urine or stool?” (Haha, he said stool.)

“Doc, Ima give it to you straight here, unlike me, LOL, but I pee like I place in major tournaments: like a motherfucking CHAMPIONNNNN!!!”

His residents cannot control their laughter anymore, and so the doctor bids me goodbye and leaves before finishing the questionnaire.

My friends get to come back in shortly after that, but a nurse gives us a stern talking to about our future behavior. 

(I can tell she doesn’t mean it, though, because the corners of her mouth uptick slightly and I know she’s amused. My powers of observation are pretty astute. I figured it out all on my own. Also, the nurse told me later that she didn’t mean her lecture and was amused. But props should still be directed my way.)

The team has to head back to the hotel for afternoon practice soon, so after they regale me with a few of their favorite stories from past camps (Kelley unsurprisingly present in most of them), I’m left alone again. 

The nurse returns me my phone under the strict instructions that I must: 1) keep my sunglasses on whilst looking at the screen (I totally forgot they were even there, honestly); 2) turn the device off immediately upon any symptoms reappearing; and 3) limit myself to short typed responses or quick calls to people who’ve been worriedly trying to contact me. Under no circumstances am I to tax my brain further, she says. 

Which means no playing Candy Crush, either. 

And that totally blows. 

Because while I’ve never played the game before or even ever had the app installed, all I can think about is destroying lines of red and blue sugar blobs. 

Maybe I’m just hungry…

After paging the nurse and asking what a girl’s gotta go to get saltines around here, my first call is to Emma. 

“Wombie!!!” I smile immediately upon hearing my sister’s voice. “How are you?!?! How’s your head?!?! I’m so sorry I couldn’t stay with you any longer, my boss ordered me back and Kell and Alex assured me that you’d be in good hands. So, how are you doing???”

When she finally gives me the chance to respond, I do.

I tell her about my surgery (“whoa, someone named Anesthesia knocked you out?!? Or like actual anesthesia? I hope it’s the latter, cuz as a name, that’s awfully strippery, no?”) and the doctor interrupting my retelling of Harry Potter just when he became not a baby (“I saw the video, sis, Becky posted it and you're trending worldwide, I’ve watched it two dozen times in the past hour”). I tell her that I genuinely feel okay, and that Kelley’s definitely going to be okay. I tell her about Meg’s visit to my room (“huh…did not see that coming, all things considered”) and how I threw up all over myself and the nurses saw my exposed boobies (“first of all, please never say ‘exposed boobies’ to me again, and second, I was literally right next to you while that was happening”), and finally, I ask her how condoms work. Not because I don’t know, but because... well, 'cuz I just really like messing with people. 

Once Emma all but hangs up on me, I call my parents. A solid ten minutes is spent with me trying to explain to my mom that we’re not on FaceTime, and it’s normal for them to not be able to see me, and that, yes, I still hear you, too, Mom, you don't have to keep asking every 30 seconds. By the time I’m finished youngsplaining technology, my head is starting to throb. I quickly assure both parents that I’m okay, I’ll call again soon, and the doctor was here so I had to go (he wasn’t, but by lying I did follow Nurse Amused’s rules). 

I let myself rest for a few minutes until my headache subsides, then begin answering texts from worried family members and friends. After the tenth, “I’m fine, just a small brain bleed, no biggie, how are you btw?” message I start copy/pasting. 

I’m 90% of the way through my texts (0% through my calls, because, hello, I’m a millennial, we don’t talk to people on the phone) when I see the ‘O’Hara.’ My heart soars for a split second, then plummets, then soars again once I actually click on Erin’s message. 

To: Kelley’s Friend Sonny (USWNT) [Emily]  
Hey, this is Erin, Kelley’s sister (in case I’m not in your contacts). Just wanted to check in and see how you were doing, and let you know Kel is recovering way quicker than the doctors estimated. I don't know if the team gave you the 411 on her injuries, but they're pretty minor; she's got a concussion and sprained wrist from the impact, plus two decent-sized gashes along her left side from the fall. My sister and I are both very happy to hear your surgery went well and you're feeling better -- we're staying in a hotel near the hospital, so if you feel up to having visitors at some point, we'd love to see you! My sister has not stopped asking about you since she woke up :) The team came by earlier and I was genuinely worried Kelley was gonna tear her sutures with how hard she was laughing at your Harry Potter video. She is also telling anyone who will listen that your coach only wishes to be referred to as “giiiiirrrrlll” from here on out (Ashlyn got an extra two laps at practice today when she fell for that one); in other words, she’s her typical hyper squirrel self. And she misses you a lot, so, like I said, back to normal. 

I read the message twice more before starting my response. 

To: The Most Attractive O’Hara Sister (suck it kelley) [Erin]  
Hey Erin, this message made me smile so much. I also want to clarify that I wasn’t on any loopy drugs when that Harry Potter recreation occurred, so, in other words, I’m also back to normal. I’m glad Kel is feeling better, and that nothing major was hurt. Please tell your sister I’m so sorry for what happened, the accident was my fault, but I’d really like to see her (and you) at some point to apologize. The Jill thing totally made me crack up, I’m surprised the doctor kicked me out yet for ‘unsafe rambunctiously disruptive behavior’ or something. Also, you are most definitely in my contacts, still under the name I entered years ago to piss Kelley off (you are the most attractive O’Hara sister, tho, so it’s not like I lied). Please tell that hyper squirrel I miss her too, and would love to see her soon <3

I add the last line on a whim and press send before I can change my mind. If things go wrong, well, I can blame the morphine (total cop-out, I know, but when am I gonna have this good of an excuse again? Maybe a couple more times this month? If I’m lucky?) or bribe one of my friends to take the heat for me (Rose would be the easiest, if I found a cute dog instagram account or big bag of candy, she’d tell anyone she wrote the note).

Then, I fall asleep. 

________________________  
(April 6th, 2020, 10:21 AM)

The team all comes by after breakfast and I happily give them the good news: my most recent scans were normal, so I’m being discharged tomorrow! 

Crystal starts dancing (so rude, she knows I’m not cleared to show her up with my moves), Mal, Rose, Lindsey, and Sam actually squeal with happiness, Becky gives me her approving head nod, and Alex asks if I’m allowed hugs yet (once we confirm it’s okay with the charge nurse, the girls don’t stop taking turns until they have to get back to the hotel for practice). 

I get another round of hugs, albeit quicker ones this time, and hear a succession of ‘bye’s, ‘love you’s, and ‘see you soon’s as my friends file out the door. 

I can’t help but wish Kelley was one of the teammates enveloping me in her arms and repeating those affirmations (the middle one in particular). 

I love about my team, don’t get me wrong, and I’m so appreciative of them visiting and supporting me these past few days (or in the cases of Mal, Rose, Sam, and Lindsey, the past few months). The girls are like my sisters, and I’d protect them with my life.

That doesn’t mean I don’t desperately miss one teammate in particular, the one who holds a much deeper place in my heart. 

I am still so in love with Kelley O’Hara.

________________________  
(4:51 PM) 

In between texts from my family, an apology message from Jill (“I’m sorry the team can’t visit again today, Em, but everyone will be there for your checkout tomorrow”), and endless joking around during my final scans and exams, I inform Nurse Amused that a few people are going to come early tomorrow morning to help prepare me for discharge (“uh huh, and how many is a few, Miss Sonnett?” “Like…not even 30”). 

My happy mood only lasts until 4 PM, because upon returning from my final CAT Scan (all clear!), I’m told both that the nurse’s fridge is out of red Gatorade and that, while my tests were being done, I missed two visitors dropping by (“names?” I asked, despite already knowing in my gut. “Uh, let me check…O’Hara? Yes, both had last names of O’Hara”).

I call my sister before I burst into tears and cause the doctor to reconsider my discharge date. 

For the first time in a long time, talking to Emma doesn’t help. 

And the coping mechanisms Dr. Bela has taught me are of no use, either, given I’m stuck in a hospital bed and have no way to play footy. And no way to talk to my friends, because they’re busy playing footy. Breathing deeply can only get a girl so far.

Watching old vine compilations (#RIPVine) provides a welcome distraction for a little while, but after I run out of saved clips, I’m right back where I started. 

And I know there’s only one person who I want to talk to now. 

To: The Most Attractive O’Hara Sister (suck it kelley) [Erin]  
Hey, I just found out you guys came by while I was getting scans done. Is there any chance you can come back? I confirmed with the nurse I have nothing else scheduled for today.

My desperate prayers to God don’t work. 

To: Kelley’s Friend Sonny (USWNT) [Emily]  
Hey, I’m so sorry, but we just sat down for dinner and Kelley has to take her meds right after, they tend to wipe her out pretty quickly. How about tomorrow afternoon? 

To: The Most Attractive O’Hara Sister (suck it kelley)  
It’s totally fine, don’t worry about it. And I’m actually being discharged in the morning, so if y’all come later you’ll miss me again haha. Have a good night!

I can’t hold the tears back any longer; I start to sob. 

Ding! 

Missed Call (The Most Attractive O’Ha…)

Ding! Ding!

2 Missed Calls (The Most Attractive O’Ha…)

Ding! Di—

One great way to silence your cell phone and relieve some stress is by hurling said mobile device at the ground and watching it shatter. 

This is also a great way to alarm the medical staff right outside your door that there’s a problem, and lead to another hour of questions and probing tests when you refuse to tell them what’s upsetting you. 

However…

(And this is a big however.)

The best way to cut the tests short is by calming down immediately and grinning, like a fool, at the girl who just knocked on your door. The major heart eyes you’re sporting seem to alert the staff pretty quickly that your meltdown had nothing to do with your head injury. 

“You came.”

In a flash, Kelley’s across the room, and she’s hugging me for the first time in nine months, and I just want to cry so I do. Kel looks alarmed and tries to pull back, but I’m still grinning like a fool and it hasn’t been a long enough hug (it could never be) so when she’s satisfied they’re only happy tears, she pulls me back in and lets me weep into her neck.

“Thank God you’re okay,” I hear her whisper, and I can’t help but press a quick kiss into her neck (a totally platonic thank you peck, really, she has a girlfriend and I know this) and she tenses for a split second but then just holds me even tighter and she smells so good and honestly this just feels like home and—

“Ahem.”

Kelley quickly pulls her body from the embrace and turns to her sister, who has apparently just arrived in the doorway but is looking between us with a smirk that seems too knowing for someone who only got a small glance.

But then Erin grins, strides across the room, and gives me a big hug. 

(And I know how weird it is that this is my first thought, but I can’t help but think ‘this is what Emma’s hugs always feel like.’) 

Erin pulls away after a few seconds, still smiling, then announces she’s off to acquire some of the ‘famous hospital cafeteria jello everyone keeps raving about.’ I go to tell her it’s actually absolutely disgusting, somehow dry and wet at the same time, but before I can get more than a word out, she’s gone and the door is falling shut behind her. 

It’s just Kelley and I now. 

For the first time in nine months. 

I look at her. Really look. Take in everything.

(Wow, she really does get more beautiful every time I see her.) 

Kelley interrupts my sappy thoughts by pulling a chair over to the side of the bed and plopping down into it. 

“Hi—“ she starts just as I say “I’ve miss—“ 

“Oh, sorry, you go first.”

“No, no, please, you’re my guest here after all.” I give her a lopsided grin and she accepts. 

“Hi Emily.” 

Everyone else calls me Sonny, or Em, or (in Lindsey’s case) Dasani, but Kelley is the only one who calls me by my first name. And I just can’t help it —

A loud content sigh slips from my lips. I forgot what happy feels like. 

I’m about to respond with a greeting of my own when Kelley says the words that — quite literally — leave me speechless. 

“I broke up with Meg.”

My heart feels like bursting (from happiness this time), my eyes brim with tears (also happy ones this time), and my brain goes into overdrive trying to make sense off all the words swirling around in my head, but all I can do is gape at her. 

“I, uh…I practiced this conversation so many times, um…” Kelley takes a deep breath, clears her throat, and starts again. “What you said at the cafe a few days ago, I feel the same way. I’ve always felt the same way. I didn’t realize until we had already been best friends for three years, but I’ve been in love with you since the start. And as soon as I admitted it to myself, I panicked, because…I was so scared. Of you not feeling the same way, of me ruining our friendship, of losing you from my life. So I panicked, and last May I finally gave in and let my mom set me up on a blind date, like she had been begging me to do forever. And then I met Meg, and she was so nice. And while I was still head over heels for you, she felt safe. I wasn’t insanely happy, but I was content, because I convinced myself that I could get over you and fall for someone else. You were still my best friend, you were still in my life, and that would have to be enough.” Kelley is sniffling now, a few tears falling down her face; I wipe them away gently with the pads of my thumbs and she sends me a grateful smile. “But then after the World Cup, you shut me out completely and I lost you anyway. That hurt so much more than only having you as my best friend, because all of a sudden you weren’t that either. You were the best part of my life, and then you were gone, and I—“ 

Her voice cracks and I immediately reach out for her hand, holding it tightly between my own.

“I’m so sorry I cut you out, Kel. I was…I was trying to be subtle, trying to make things as smooth as possible, but I know I hurt you all the same. I just, I needed space from us. I felt like I was suffocating every time I thought about you because the image that immediately appeared in my mind was of you and Meg kissing. Until that moment…” I pause to squeeze her hand and get her to look at me. “Kel, I didn’t know how much I loved you until I saw you loving someone else. That’s why I ghosted you. I knew it wasn’t fair to you for me to pull away, but I also knew that if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from breaking down completely. You were happy, you were loved, and I figured that was enough. It didn’t matter I was broken and empty, because you were happy. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy, Kelley. Even before I realized I loved you, even after, even…even when it was without me.” 

“I’ll never be truly happy without you, Em. And this wasn’t all your fault. We were both so goddam stupid, if one of us had just told the other—“ We both let out watery chuckles at that before Kelley continues, “Getting back to my speech, though, I promise you’ll understand why I’m telling you all this in a moment, um…okay. So, when I suddenly lost you, I was kind of a wreck. I missed you so much, and I was just miserable. But then one day I wasn’t quite as miserable as the day before, because Meg was still there for me. She was patient and sweet, and I knew she loved me, and I felt safe. After a little while, I thought to myself: ‘Okay. This is enough. I’m not happy, but this is enough.’ God, though, Emily, every time I saw you in camp or we played each other in the league, I’d forget what I’d convinced myself. It took just one glance at you for me to know I’d only ever be in love with you. Meg finally confronted me the day after the NWSL final, saying she only had to see my face for a second to know I was in love with you.” Kelley looks down at her lap and smiles softly. “Apparently whenever I see you I get these…’heart eyes’?” She looks up at me again and giggles. “And every single time you appeared on the screen during that game, I would get that look. Meg knew immediately, because I had given her that look at the WWC. She said that while she loved me, she wouldn’t ever be someone’s second choice. I tried to argue, and she just went, ‘You have looked at me with heart eyes twice in the six months we’ve been dating. You looked at her like that sixty times in one night.’ There was nothing I could say except ‘sorry.’” 

“Wait, Kel, but that means you guys broke up in November…why didn’t you tell me? Especially at January camp, we never said a word to each other but then you would give me this look right before the starting whistle of each game. If I had known you weren’t still in a relationship, I would’ve told you everything. We could’ve figured everything out. Instead you just gave me half-nods and fleeting glances.” 

“Emily, you keep talking about me, like I’m the only one who was in pain. I know you were, too — I know about the drinking, and the panic attacks, and the therapy. I know you were hurting because of me. And I know that you were fighting every day to stay sober, deal with a broken heart, use healthy coping mechanisms, and open up to your friends. I knew I had to figure out all my own shit before I talked to you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I started something and then broke you again.”

“Who…” I clear my throat to keep my voice from cracking again. “How did you know about all of that? Who told you?”

“Emma left me a drunk voicemail on your birthday. She mostly yelled things like ‘you broke her heart bitch, why did you gotta do her that way’ or ‘my sister can’t even drink because of you, this is war, put on your shinguards!’ Stuff like that.” I must look as embarrassed as I feel, because Kelley quickly assures me, “She was just being a good sister and trying to protect you in her own loud, drunk, confusing and threatening way. Seriously, Emily. Don’t be mad at her, she helped me with the big plan.”

“What big plan?” I ask, and the other girl slaps her free hand over her mouth. 

“Well, dammit, okay, look, um…forget about that for a minute, please? Let me finish my speech?” I nod, so she takes a deep breath and continues from where I had interrupted her earlier. “We broke up in mid-November, and I was planning on telling you everything next camp. After I got your sister’s message, though, I knew I couldn’t just expect forgiveness or some big happy love-filled reunion. So I called Alex.”

“Oh boy. What did she say?”

“At first, she just kept telling me that it was about time I got my head out of my ass. Then she moved to high-pitched squeals and planning our wedding, and after that, she wanted to know every detail about when I knew, how, what about Meg, etc. I told her the entire story, from the butterflies I felt your first camp and pushed aside, to the night I was stargazing and realized, halfway through buying you a plot on the moon, that I was in love with you, to trying to convince myself being with Meg was enough, to the ‘heart-eyes’ breakup following the Thorns winning the NWSL final, to the voicemail Emma left me a week prior. She was really good, just listened to my rambling and calmed me down whenever I started crying too much. And for awhile after that talk, she kept calling and checking in, and helped me write a letter to you explaining my feelings, and things were really looking up. On New Year’s Eve, it took me everything not to call you, and I ended up leaving my phone at my parent’s house and going out drinking with some friends. And then New Year’s Day, I woke up in Meg’s bed and realized how much I had fucked up.”

“Oh.”

“It didn't mean anything, Emily, I swear, I was just drunk and thinking about what I’d do if you were there, and then she was there…that sounded bad. Shit, no, I didn’t mean. It wasn’t like I kissed her because she was there, it was…I wanted you to be there so badly, I got insanely wasted, and when lips were suddenly on mine, it was easy to imagine they belonged to you. I didn’t know it was Meg until the next morning.”

“Kel, I breathe, “It’s okay. Just…just finish your speech, okay? I’ll stop interrupting now.”

She looked like she really wanted to apologize again or say something to make me feel better, but no words came out when she opened her mouth. 

I was about to talk again, tell her I was totally fine and absolutely not insanely nauseous at the thought of her in bed with her ex, but Kelley spoke again before I could. 

“Okay. Okay.” She nodded to herself, neutralized her concerned facial expression, then looked back at me. “I called Alex when I got home, and to say she was disappointed would be the understatement of the year. I told her I still loved you with every bit of myself, and she laughed. Like, actually let out a barking, scathing laugh, and went, ‘Who are you trying to convince now?’ I got angry and started yelling, mostly because what she was telling me hit a little too close to home, and hung up. We didn’t talk until January camp, which is also when you overheard her talking to Allie about us. She told me the next day what you two had discussed, not going into details but still giving me enough to work with. Then she told me that I had to get my shit together before I could even think about talking to you. She said if I broke your heart again, she’d break my leg (‘I’ll snap it like a twig, KO, Jill’s wrath be damned’). So, I held my tongue. I gave you those pre-match looks right after I pointed to God because it was the only way I could think to express how thankful I am to Him for bringing you into my life. Before the starting whistle, I needed to take a second to acknowledge two of the most important aspects of my life: my faith and my love.” 

And she says I’m good with words?!?! God, I want to kiss her so bad right now. But I have to let her finish talking first, despite the fact that her lower lip is the perfect size for me to sink my teeth into…

“So camp ends, and of course we are both booked on the same flight to Atlanta. I panicked at the thought of five hours of sitting next to you and not being able to hold you; I knew I would break my promise to Alex about staying away, and she would, in turn, break one of my legs. So I paid to change my flight to later and spent an extra hour in bed. I was scrolling through Instagram and my phone froze just as a picture of you and some girl came up. It was obviously from a few minutes before, at the San Diego airport, and while the rational side of me knew it was just a fan photo, my irrational side focused not on your soft smile or classic thumbs-up pose, but the girl’s expression. I recognized them immediately: ‘heart eyes.’ Directed right at you. You weren’t looking back down at her, just smiling at whoever was taking the photo, but all the air was sucked out of my lungs and I saw red. Of course, that was the moment my phone unfroze, and a second after I had shakily closed Insta, I got a new message notification from Meg. Asking if I could meet her for coffee. And you already know what happened next.”

“You guys got back together.” My stomach painfully twisted just remembering it.

“Yeah. For a bit, anyway. 38 days, to be exact. And every single one of those days, I tried to convince myself I made the right decision replying to Meg’s text, and every single night I cried myself to sleep and dreamt of what could have been if I hadn’t said yes to coffee. It took me way longer than it should have, hell, I never should’ve agreed to try again with her in the first place, but…I officially ended things in early March.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Well, what else do you want me to say to that? I get it. You need more time, same as before, I get it.” Annoyance took over. “And can you please, like, finish your speech soon? I really don’t want to cry over you again, with you here.”

“God, no, Em. That’s not…that’s not what I’m saying at all. It’s been a month, yes. But I’ve spent that month in therapy sessions, on long phone calls with Alex or Erin, and by planning the Grand Surprise thing I accidentally blurted out earlier.”

Now I’m just confused AND annoyed. “The thing with Emma? What are you talking about, Kel?”

“I’m talking about the ultimate grand romantic gesture. Something I could do that would not only sweep you off your feet, but make you feel as loved and appreciated as possible. The morning of the accident, when I knocked on your door, that’s what I had come to get you for.”

Confusion and elation. Conflation (wait no, that’s that financial term. scratch that). 

“But then why did you run away? If you were there to make me feel so loved, why flee?”

“Because I had prepared every second of that day. I got Jill to give us both the morning off-practice, I rented out the Botanical Gardens near the hotel, not just a greenhouse but the entire venue, I hired a chef to make this special avocado toast, we were going to get to the sloping lawn with breakfast in hand just in time to see the sunrise. I planned for everything, from the perfect speech setting to what color socks I would wear, but I didn’t plan for you to open your door in your underwear. And then I realized an entire minute had passed, and I still hadn’t said anything, and I was just salivating over your abs. Then I panicked, because I wanted to jump you right then and there, but the whole plan was about you feeling loved for you and not just your hot body. So I fled, called Erin, and regrouped, then went back to your room half an hour later only to hear from a very tired Sam that you guys were meeting up at some cafe Alex recommended.” 

“So that’s how you knew where we were?”

“Yeah. I gathered all the stuff I needed, internally prepared to sweep you off your feet at the cafe instead, thinking we could then Uber to the gardens and have the chef prepare fresh toast. I rehearsed my opening line over and over on the ride over, I was so ready to burst in the door and wow you with my words.” 

“And you got there when I was wowing the entire diner with my words?” I guessed.

“Yep. And not only were you explaining your emotions in a more open and honest and raw way than I ever could, you were real. Right there in front of me, all I ever wanted, the most beautiful girl in the entire world, and I stood still like an idiot while you were collapsing into a chair out of emotional exhaustion. Emotional exhaustion that I caused. That time when I ran, it was first because I was beating myself up for not moving my body quick enough to catch you, then because I knew I could never be good enough for you.”

“You really need to stop using the word enough to describe your emotional states.” I give her a teary smile and nod to keep talking. God, I really want to kiss her. 

“So I stopped in the middle of the intersection and told myself I should really stop thinking about relationships as an ‘enough’ thing,” Kelley winks at me. “I thought back on everything about your speech that my brain was telling me was a reason I wasn’t enough for you. I knew I could never express myself the way you just had; I heard how much pain I had caused you over these months. My brain said I wasn’t enough because you deserve to have someone recite you poetry, Emily, and you deserve to be with someone who will never hurt you. In those aspects, I’ve already failed being good enough for you. But then my heart shut my brain up with a few karate kicks and some ketamine, and decided what you deserve, most of all, is to be loved. To be happy. To be reminded every single day how amazing you are. To have someone that will fight for you always. I turned to tell you that I want to be that person for you…and I didn’t see the car.”

She pauses and I can’t help but swoon internally (okay, and a little externally), and marvel at everything she’s saying to me, and I notice through my teary eyes not only that she’s crying now, too, but that, once again, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. God, I wonder if her lips are as perfect as the words coming out of them…

I’m about to clear my throat and tell her exactly that when she continues. “When I woke up in the hospital, and Meg was there, and you weren’t,” Kelley laughs, melodic despite the emotion in her voice, “I’ll tell you, I’ve never been more simultaneously confused, heartbroken, and energized in my life. The team left the room after I woke up to give me time with Meg, who they thought was still my girlfriend, and she told me that I was in an accident, that I was going to be okay, and that you were in emergency neurosurgery. My heart monitor went crazy at the thought of you in danger and I had already ripped out my IV and yanked off most of the wires when the nurse came in to check on my spiking vitals…Alex actually yelled at me when she heard, I asked about you, and she responded that if I accidentally die because I’m an idiot and tear out a organ by mistake, I’d never get to see you again. That calmed me down quick.” We both laughed at that, then Kelley’s facial features got soft and her voice determined. “The last few days have blurred together because the only thing I cared about was seeing you. You are my everything, Emily Sonnett, and I—“

I cut her off (rude, I know) with a kiss (finally, I know).

And my god, it’s everything I’ve ever imagined and so much more. She’s surprised by it, I can tell, but after a second Kelley is kissing me back with just as much love. Our lips slot together then, and it’s sweet and gentle and so perfect. 

The next kiss is a bit different. Kelley starts to pull away from me but I’m not having any of that, fuck no, I’ve waited too damn long for this. This time when our mouths meet, it’s passionate and hungry. I swipe my tongue across her lip, asking for permission, and she replies instantly. Our open mouths slot together and our tongues meet and I have never been so turned on by making out alone. Her hands tangle in my hair and her nails gently scratch the back of my head and if I hadn’t recently gotten brain surgery, I could come from the sensation alone. But I have, so I gently take her hands from my head and move them down to my neck. Kelley doesn’t seem to mind the new position, takes advantage of the control it provides and tilts my jaw so she can lick into my mouth. 

Kel in control is incredibly sexy, but the moan she lets out moments later when my teeth sink into her bottom lip is even hotter. It’s the best thing I’ve ever heard and I decide I need to hear it again. I release her lip with a pop and move to her jaw, peppering kisses across it until I can bite down again, this time on her earlobe. She moans again, and I cease to exist. 

When our eyes meet for the first time since our lips met the first time, her pupils are blown and eyes nearly black. Fuck, that’s hot. I need to show her hot hot I find that. I take the reigns again, my hands fisting her shirt and pulling her body as close to mine as possible without separating our mouths. She shifts, I tug, and Jesus Christ, Kelley O’Hara is straddling me. My grip immediately shifts to the legs bracketing mine, and I run my hands along every inch of skin this new angle allows. I learn that her thighs quiver when I sink my nails into them and that Kelley really likes when I touch her butt. And she has to restrain herself from rocking down into me when my tongue is in her mouth and my fingers rubbing slow circles on her hipbones. 

My left hand slips fully under her shirt to splay across her stomach, and the little groan that escapes Kelley’s mouth is quickly followed by one of my own when I feel her abs trembling against my fingers. The skin on her stomach is so soft and perfect, it’s only natural for me to wonder what it feels like on other parts of her body. I test my theory out with the bare areas I have immediate access to and once again pepper kisses along her jaw. There’s a soft little gasp when I reach her ear, and an — oh! — when my tongue comes out to trace her ear. I switch sides and get the same reactions. My mouth continues its descent then to her neck, and she tilts her head up to give me more access. When my tongue licks at the nape of her neck, it’s my turn to let out a strangled moan, and move both my hands under her shirt to pull her closer to me. Kelley trembles when I place open-mouth kisses and gentle bites down her next, pulling my head in impossibly closer. Her skin tastes like heaven and a little like salt, and I decide then this is the best flavor I’ve ever known. She grabs my shoulders to steady herself and my tongue gets more and more brazen and —

Well, let’s just say we’ve kinda forgotten where we are at this point. 

Of course Nurse Amused comes in just as I’m biting down on Kelley’s pulse point, so she gets a first-hand view of not only both my hands fully under Kelley’s shirt (one was maybe under the bra, too, but what she doesn't know won’t hurt her), but also the older girl finally giving in and grinding herself down onto my lap. 

“OH, HELL NAW.”

Kelley is off my lap and back in her chair in a flash and I can’t help but wonder how many times she’s been caught mid-makeout-sesh with other girls. But then I decide it doesn’t matter, because she’s looking up at me and smiling all happy and shy and I’m so in love with this girl. 

Nurse Amused no doubt sees the heart eyes too, because both her glare and tone soften noticeably. 

“I swear, if I didn’t love true love, y’all would both be getting sprayed with water right now. I do it to my cats when they misbehave and I’ll do it to you two, too.”

We both giggle, and while the heated moment is over, the happiness emanating off us has just begun. My nurse just shakes her head. 

“Didn’t you come in with your sister?” She addresses Kelley, “Where the hell is she? Y’all need a chaperone so this lovefest doesn’t get too randy tonight.”

And, of course, Erin chooses that exact second to walk through the door. She stops, looks at the three of us in succession, then bursts out laughing. 

“I knew it! I knew tonight would be the Dawn of So’Hara!”

“That sounds like a bad Hallmark movie, Er.” 

I laugh with Kelley, “Also known as a Hallmark movie.”

…okay, wrong thing to say. I now have two appalled expressions and one of look of utter betrayal directed my way. 

“That does it. Erin, give me your phone, we’re watching Holidays In Handcuffs this second.”

“Kelley, no,” I whine, but it falls on deaf ears as the beginnings of a Christmas song stream from Erin’s speakers. 

The girl I love dismisses her sister and my nurse with a wave of her hand, settles in next to me in the bed, and turns her whole attention to the small screen. 

“Kelley, yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would any of y'all be interested in me making this a series? Or writing more stories like this (10K+ words; couple-chapters; one main pairing)? Or me uploading the NSFW alternate ending wherein Nurse Amused doesn't interrupt?
> 
> I'm working on a super long (currently at 16K words, barely halfway done) Preath oneshot right now, so that'll be posted in the next week. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!!
> 
> #So'HaraLives


	3. part three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Epilogue.

[Excerpt from the article, ‘My Wife, The Beast,’ written by Kelley O’Hara, published Sept. 2022, The Players Tribune.]

The female body is pretty amazing.

(And not just because of sexy times.)

A woman can push a baby out herself and, two months later, be back at work. Think about that for a moment. Mothers are total badasses from the get-go. After multiple cups of ice chips, dozens of hours of pain, a gallon of sweat, and a loooooong string of curse words, a chick expels a watermelon of of her vagina. 

And that’s just the start. The two months (if she’s lucky) before going back to work are filled with sleep-deprivation, diaper changes, pumping, leaking, spit-up, crying, screaming, and doctor’s visits. Then she’ll continue doing 80+% of that work, all while working 80+ hours per week.

This feat is particularly impressive if said woman’s job is as a professional athlete. Because not only is one expected to be a great mother, they also have to be back in great shape immediately. 

::::::

My wife is pretty amazing. 

(See above, re: bow chicka wow wow.)

Because not only did Emily do everything that third paragraph mentioned, she has blown my mind from the day we met. 

Three months after having brain surgery, Emily was in the starting lineup for the USWNT at the 2020 Olympics.

The year after our team won gold, she secured three big sponsorships, one national campaign, got traded twice, bought a house, adopted a dog, helped plan her sister’s wedding, helped plan her own wedding, married the love of her life (me), and made a video with Ellen Degeneres. 

A month later, she started the insemination process and wrote a script.

At four months pregnant, Emily led our team to win the NWSL playoffs in its debut season (#GoPhillyLove!!!). 

At six months pregnant, my wife released a documentary she had made about female athletes, starring me and our new team, a film that immediately started receiving major award buzz (I will never doubt Emily’s powers of persuasion or adorableness again, not after she took our joke bet seriously and convinced Katherine Bigelow to direct her feature). 

At eight centimeters dilated, Emily had the (metaphorical) balls to ask the doctor to rate her (actual) p**** against all those he’d seen prior. Then asked at what age our child would be allowed to taste the culinary perfection that is the Chipotle burrito bowl. 

Those were all pretty phenomenal moments for the both of us. 

But none of them held a candle to when I laid our son down on her chest an hour after the delivery, and she gazed adoringly down at him, then began to tell him the story of us. 

(“…I know, little man! Can you imagine that? I hope you never try it or anything, but…getting a brain bleed is a super effective way to woo a girl. And if you’re particularly persuasive, she might even try to mount you in the hospital room.”) 

Emily Sonnett-O’Hara is truly amazing.

And I am so, so proud of her. 

And so, so, so in love with her. 

________________________  
Emily POV:

The day Kelley told me she wanted to retire was emotional, to say the least. 

I had just wrangled our son into his high chair and started making oatmeal when my wife padded into the kitchen with a soft smile. She poured herself a cup of coffee, walked over to cover our sleepy toddler’s face in kisses, and then back to the kitchen and leaned against the counter opposite me.

“Morning, babe.” I yawned, leaning in for quick peck but stopping when I saw the look on her face. “Kell? Are you okay?”

She nodded, took a big sip from her mug, and then brought up a topic I’ve been thinking a lot about myself. 

“I want another one.”

I looked up at her, about to ask what she meant when it dawned on me. I searched her eyes for any sign of uncertainty or apprehension, but found none. I only saw the usual heart eyes, tinged with a hint of hopefullness. The kitchen was filled with silence for a few moments as I pondered my response. 

“I want—“ I had just begun speaking when our two-year-old interrupted, letting out a happy shriek. 

“‘Mere, Aggy! See me!” Caleb yelled out to our dog, who came sprinting across the lawn to the door as soon as her best friend called. I shook my head and sent my wife a grin, then went to open the door for our pup. 

As usual, Agatha Christie (I had jokingly suggested the name upon seeing the dog’s ‘old-lady-face’, not expecting Kelley to immediately agree then add a surname; she insisted the new member of our family had a dark look in her eyes, which to my wife meant “she’s plotting our murders, babe, you know it as much as I do”) ran right past me and skidded to a stop in front of Caleb’s high chair. 

“Up, Aggy, Up!” Our son yelled, and cheered as his command was obeyed. I shook my head at the dog’s idea of dancing (she literally just put two paws in the air and hopped in place — no sense of rhythm or showmanship at all, I swear) and turned back around to stir the oatmeal. 

“So where did we leave off, beautiful?” I asked as innocently as I could muster. I knew, and knew Kelley knew I knew, what we had been discussing, but suddenly my desire to deflect with humor surpassed my fear of pissing off my wife. 

Kelley half-glowered and half-grinned at me before she rolled her eyes and repeated, “I want another one.”

“Another what, babe?” I tried to joke, but quickly stopped when I saw my hilarity was not appreciated at the moment. I sighed instead and moved my gaze to the floor. “I want another baby too, Kell, but I don’t see how we can do that with our life as hectic as it is right now. Between club and the national team, we’re away more then we’re home, and I really worry about subjecting a second kid to that lifestyle. It’s been hard enough with Caleb, and that’s with both of us giving 110%. Another pregnancy now would mean I’d be out until at least May and thus be without the ability to get back in good enough shape before the Olympics begin. That’s assuming I got knocked up the first try, there’s a real chance it could take longer. Then I’d have a newborn and a toddler in a foreign country, watching the team play and wishing I was next to you on the pitch, plus as soon as the tournament is finished we’ll be right back in the NWSL swing-of-things. It’s too much, babe, it’s too crazy, having another baby now wouldn’t be fair to us or our kids.” I finished with a long exhale. 

Finally looking back up, I expected to see sadness or anger in my wife’s eyes. Instead, I just saw steely determination. 

“There’s a way to do this that doesn’t mean crazy schedules and you missing the Olympics.” Kelley’s voice was quiet but in line with her expression. 

I couldn’t help but scoff. “Yeah? How’s that?” 

When she didn’t immediately answer, I busied myself by fixing Caleb his bowl and walking over to place it on his tray with a spoon and a Batman sippy cup (yes, the same one from the hospital; yes, I did in fact steal it before being discharged; no, I have not been sued over this theft as of yet) full of juice. 

I walked back into the kitchen and had just started to serve myself a bowl of oatmeal when Kelley spoke again. 

“Because I’m going to retire.”

I dropped the spoon.

“What? Kell, I thought…we said I would…what?”

She gave me a small smile before bending to pick up the fallen utensil and place it in the sink. Agatha happily took care of the rest of the mess. 

“I’ve thought about this for awhile, and…actually, babe, could we sit?”

I nodded dumbly and walked over to sit at the table. My wife followed a few moments later with her coffee and a new bowl of oatmeal for me. I took it, albeit distractedly. 

Kelley cleared her throat again. “I know when we talked about kids a few years ago, we decided you’d be the one to carry them, but…to be honest, the main reason I so readily agreed to that in 2020 was because, even more than I loved the idea of you carrying our child, I was afraid a pregnancy at my age would mean the end of my career. And before we started a family, that was one of my main concerns in life: not being able to play. But, babe,” she grinned at me, “Caleb changed everything. Our family has changed everything. I’ve thought about this for nearly a year, and I know retirement the right choice. I’m sorry for not including you in the decision-making process sooner, I just knew you’d try to talk me out of it if I had. Don’t deny it, you know you would.” My wife shot me a smile that I couldn’t help but return. “I know in my heart this is right. I want to finish this season with the Love and play the next two matches with the national team, and then cheer you on at the Olympics with your two other biggest fans. I just…well, I just really, really want to have another baby with you, Emily.”

She looked at me, hopeful for a positive response. I just kissed her senseless instead. 

(Looking back, I don’t know why she initially seemed so surprised at my reaction…I mean, what?— like I was really going to say no after hearing that speech? Please. She had me at Emily.)

Caleb burped loudly next to us. 

Agatha wagged her tail. 

Life was good. 

________________________

The day Kelley retired was bittersweet, to say the least. 

On November 10th, 2023, at 35 years old, my wife hung up her boots for good. 

(And when I say ‘hung up,’ I do mean it quite literally. Yeah, she had them mounted on a wall in her basement office/‘Frat Daddy Den.’ And no, she did not invest in Odor-Eaters until multiple people complained…and I threatened her with no sex for a week.)

The game itself was fairly uneventful, which I secretly really appreciated. I knew Kelley would’ve been okay either way, but having her career end on a high note definitely added to the joy. We ended up beating Scotland 5-0, Christen Press getting a hatrick and Rose Lavelle with a brace. 

In the 77th minute, Kelley was subbed out. She passed her captain’s armband over to the team’s rising star, rookie defender Phoebe McClernon, and walked off the pitch to a standing ovation. 

I got to present her with flowers and a framed #5 jersey after the match. Erin handed Caleb down to Auntie Alex a few minutes later so he could join us at the podium. 

She gave a beautiful speech to a sold-out crowd at Lincoln Financial Field, thanking her fans, friends, family, and supporters for everything they had helped her accomplish over the years. With two World Cup trophies, two Olympic gold medals, and too many other accolades to list, Kelley said it was time to start another chapter of her life. 

(My wife didn’t mention the new chapter had already started eight weeks prior in a doctor’s office.) 

Kelley cried. I cried. Hell, half the stadium cried. 

Before she handed the microphone back, my wife turned to me. 

“Roughly four and a half years ago, this team won the 2019 Women’s World Cup—“ loud whoops and cheers rose from the crowd before Kell signaled them to calm down. “Four and a half years ago, we won the World Cup final, and I celebrated by lifting myself up to the stands and kissing my girlfriend. I don’t regret that moment.” I’m a little confused when she turns to me and grins. “Emily, you told me you loved me nine months after that match, and said it was seeing me kissing someone else that made you realize it. So I don’t regret that moment, nor do I regret any other decisions or choices that I’ve made in my life, because they all led me to you. And while I never want to change the past, I do want to make a new memory with you, now. So, if you please—“ Kelley held out her hand and I accepted it, still feeling quite confused as she led me to the stands. I wasn’t exactly expected her to drag a chair to the base of the family section, nor was I expecting her to pull us onto said chair and boost me up to grab the railing. But as soon as I felt the cold steel beneath my palms, I knew what was about to happen. I lifted myself the rest of the way up and over the bar and leaned over to look down at my wife. 

She grinned up at me and then spoke into the microphone again. 

“I had planned on doing this at last summer’s final match, but when we lost I decided against it. So, here, now, I would like to finally see this dream realized…” 

Kelley dropped the microphone to the ground, cringed at the feedback sound, then pulled herself up to to rest on the railing. 

I shook my head in amazement, leant down to cup her face between my hands, and connected our lips. 

Exactly seven months later, Kelley gave birth to our daughter. 

While my wife slept later that night, I held our baby in my arms and opened my photos. 

“Look, Charlotte,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the newborn’s head, “This is your mommys.” 

Her eyelashes fluttered as her eyes reacted to the screen’s brightness. A small yawn was the only response I got to the picture on my phone. My favorite picture. The picture taken at my wife’s last game. 

Kelley kissing me. 

Kelley loving me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> I wasn't planning on adding a third part to this, but after my laptop vanished half of my Preath story and I got frustrated trying to remember what I wrote, I had an idea for an epilogue. 
> 
> I hope you guys like this. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and, as always:
> 
> #So'HaraLives


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